The Sultan Demands His Heir Page 11

  ‘But...?’

  ‘But I find that there’s only so much altruism I can stomach before I’m driven insane by the need to have you,’ he growled.

  Esme barely had time to brace herself against the wall of formidable man that came at her. Her scarf was tugged loose and disposed of, and the hair she’d pinned up minutes ago was freed within seconds, even as he bore her back against the cushions.

  His large, muscular body covered hers, and his lips met hers in a hot, demanding kiss she felt all the way to her toes. She’d thought the first time they’d kissed that it couldn’t get any better, that the need inside her couldn’t get larger or hungrier.

  But as her fingers tunnelled through his thick hair with urgency and greed, Esme was introduced to another level of need so great she actually whimpered with the thought of it going unsatisfied. Whether he sensed it or not, Zaid fed that need with renewed vigour, mouth and tongue and teeth ravaging hers in a relentless erotic dance that had her already dizzy senses spinning.

  Strong muscled thighs parted hers, and he settled himself more firmly over her. As if he already owned the right to be there. Esme knew she’d given him that right, that with her silence these past three weeks she’d completely accepted that this was going to happen.

  She would give her virginity to Sultan Zaid Al-Ameen.

  A jet of alarm sprouted inside her, attempting to cool the blazing fires. She didn’t need lessons in sex and sexuality to know twenty-five-year-old virgins were as rare as hen’s teeth. But whereas the choice not to explore her sexuality had been solidly accepted and acceptable in her own mind, suddenly it occurred to her that it might not be the case from another’s perspective.

  The possibility of disappointing him suddenly loomed large in her mind, tossing another bucket of cold water over her frenzied senses.

  The warm pads of his fingers drifted down her cheek, insisting on her attention and immediately receiving it. Brought back to the stunning desert oasis and the equally stunning, virile male whose eyes broadcast his ravenous hunger for her, she almost managed to convince herself her worries weren’t warranted. A shaky sigh escaped her as he lowered his head, trailing kisses on her bottom lip and along her jaw. ‘I’m attempting not to allow the fact that I’ve clearly lost your interest to dent my ego too much,’ he drawled in her ear.

  Short, shocked laughter barked out of her. To think he was remotely disturbed by the same worry that plagued her! ‘Your ego has nothing to worry about from me.’

  She sobered when he raised his head and she saw the speculative gleam swirling in his eyes. ‘You want me,’ he stated, a touch arrogantly, his hand leaving her cheek to chart a path of fire down her throat to the open neckline of her tunic.

  She couldn’t deny it, although the depth of it shocked her. ‘Yes, I want you,’ she gasped.

  A rough inhalation expanded his chest as his lips continued to wreak havoc on her bare skin. ‘Now we’ve got the most important detail out of the way, tell me the source of your second thoughts and I will deal with them.’

  Esme bit her lip. Dared she risk telling him? Would he care? What if he stopped making love to her?

  She held her breath as he raised his head again, the speculation much more intense this time. ‘Esmeralda, what is it?’ he demanded.

  She slicked lips gone dry. ‘I’m feeling a little bit out of my depth. I... I haven’t done this before,’ she stuttered.

  He stared silently down at her for a full minute before he jumped lithely to his feet. The realisation that she’d lost him that quickly, that easily, stunned her so completely she stared mutely at him for endless seconds before she noticed the hand he was holding out to her. Warily, she placed her hand in his.

  The moment she was upright, he swung her up into his arms. Esme’s eyes widened.

  ‘Zaid...’

  He silenced her with a swift kiss before he strode out of the living room with long, purposeful strides. A short corridor later they walked through another opening and arrived in what could only be termed as the most masculine space she’d ever seen.

  Animal-skin rugs graced the floor. Bold works of embroidered art hung on the walls. And in the middle of the floor a fire pit blazed with an intricate meshed metal dome that kept the flames contained.

  But it was the bed that dominated her attention. Although it stood no higher than three feet off the floor, the emperor-sized bed, laid on exquisitely carved timber pallets, was enthralling in itself, even before the blinding-white satin sheets and the countless richly coloured pillows and cushions that graced the vast surface. Everything in the room screamed sensuality and endless luxury.

  It also screamed that this place was reserved for those steeped in the art of lovemaking, and not for innocents such as herself.

  The sensation of being out of her depth grew to stomach-churning proportions. She drew in another shaky breath as he lowered her to her feet.

  Long, elegant fingers slid into her hair and angled her face up to his determined one. ‘Your equivocation isn’t unwarranted. This will be the first time I too will be mixing business with pleasure,’ he confessed.

  The drugging effect of his fingers on her scalp distracted her from his words for several moments. ‘I... What?’ she murmured faintly.

  ‘That is what you’re worried about, isn’t it? That we risk compromising our professional relationship with a personal one?’ he pressed, even as he stepped closer, brought his hips into singeing contact with hers and trailed his lips across hers once more. ‘But the alternative is to deny ourselves this. And that, habiba, is not going to happen tonight,’ he affirmed with deep, solid conviction.

  Her mouth dropped open but coherent words failed to form. He thought she was reticent about sleeping with him because she was his employee!

  The mouth hovering tantalisingly close returned to seal over hers, his tongue breaching her lips with renewed sexual resolution that reinvigorated the fire inside her. With a helpless moan she clamped her hands around his shoulders, straining up to receive more of the drugging caress.

  She needed to tell him. She would tell him. But not yet. After another kiss. Just in case all this came to an abrupt end the moment he found out she was so inexperienced.

  They kissed until their breaths turned ragged, until touching over silk and satin was no longer enough. Until the need to feel skin on skin raged out of control. Somewhere along the line Zaid had shrugged off his robe. Her slippers had fallen off her feet, leaving her bare feet on soft rugs.

  It was only when Zaid muttered urgently in Arabic against her lips that she started to heed the screaming voice in her head that told her she was running out of time to tell him. His hands were slowly drawing up her tunic, the soft breeze from a nearby opening sliding seductively over her skin.

  She managed to free her tongue from the roof of her mouth. ‘Zaid...’

  ‘I need to see you,’ he translated thickly. ‘Touch you properly. Taste you.’

  His hands brushed the side of her hips as he continued to tug up her dress, murmuring thick, sensual promises against her lips.

  Her fingers convulsed against his sleek pectoral muscles as he worked to free her from the tunic. ‘Zaid... I...have to tell you—’

  ‘Shh, jamila, just give in to the pleasure.’

  Before she could push the necessary words out, he was pulling the dress over her head. Her freed hair tumbled over her body in long tresses. He brushed the strands over her shoulders so he could better see her. Then he tossed away the tunic and stood looking at her with eyes that promised unforgettable, incandescent pleasure.

  One hand lifted slowly, as if drawing out the pleasure, to trace her collarbone, causing her to gasp as desire arrowed hot and hard through her body.

  ‘I knew you were beautiful but the reality far surpasses my imagination, habiba,’ he said in a near growl as his fingers drifted over the lace that cupped her breasts.

  ‘Zaid...’

  ‘Stay,’ he commanded gruffly, twin slash
es of colour staining his haughty cheekbones as he dropped his hand and strolled lazily, imperiously around her body.

  He stopped behind her, his breath catching audibly. A second later a quick tug released the clasp of her bra. He didn’t free her completely from it but, despite her self-consciousness, Esme had never felt so desired, so aware of her body. Her own breath caught as one finger stroked her first vertebra, then followed the line down in a languid caress that had liquid heat pooling at her feminine core. He stopped just above the cleft of her buttocks, his touch lingering as he stepped closer to plant a kiss on one bare shoulder. Then the other. A moment later his fingers were hooking into the sides of her lace panties, tugging them over her hips. They dropped to the floor and she heard his guttural sound of appreciation.

  Tell him. Tell him now before it’s too late.

  With equal amounts of dread and desire she spun on her heel to face him. The quick movement dislodged the loose bra. In the next instant the scrap of lace fell free from her body to join her panties, leaving her completely naked, bare to his avid gaze. He traced her from head to toe, lingering at the shadowed place between her legs.

  ‘You are truly exquisite, Esmeralda,’ he praised.

  At the sight of the ferocious hunger etched on his face, Esme almost gave up. But she’d made a promise never to lie or mislead.

  ‘You...you misunderstood me when I said I hadn’t done this before.’

  It seemed to take a monumental effort for him to drag his gaze up from her tight-peaked breasts. A slow frown gathered on his dark brow. ‘Then enlighten me, habiba, and do it quickly before my patience runs out,’ he advised, his voice barely above a rough rumble.

  ‘I mean that I’m...a virgin.’

  He grew statue still, his eyes narrowing. Seconds ticked by, then his nostrils pinched on a sharp inhalation. ‘That is impossible. You’re twenty-five years old,’ he said bluntly.

  ‘I assure you it’s not impossible. I’ve never slept with a man.’

  Her statement seemed to trigger an emotion within him. One she breathlessly recognised as shockingly primal, stamped with a possessive fire that grew as he continued to stand there looking at her. But alongside that, as predicted, were questions that stormed through his eyes, even as his gaze rushed feverishly over her body.

  She pre-empted them by placing a hand on his chest. ‘It was my choice not to explore that side of my life.’

  He nodded, but the speculation remained. ‘And you choose to bestow such a gift on me now because...?’

  It occurred to her that his power and position in life would have made him suspect such a gift. ‘Not because of who you are, if that’s what you’re wondering. If I was that calculating I would’ve waited until...until you saw the evidence for yourself, not risked you rejecting me because you thought I was being untruthful. But... I want you, more than I want to keep my innocence. I told you because... I didn’t want... I know my inexperience may be a turn-off for you—’ She stopped, flushing as he made a gruff sound of disbelief.

  He stepped closer, bringing his body heat, the very temptation of him into her personal space. ‘You think what you’ve just told me makes you less desirable to me?’ he demanded. He followed the statement with another singeing full-body appraisal.

  Standing there, naked, while he was fully clothed and she was dying with need was suddenly too much. Her head dipped beneath the weight of her want, her arms rising to block the most private parts of her body from him.

  He lunged forward, grabbing her hands as his breaths emerged in harsh pants. ‘Don’t hide yourself from me, habiba. I want to see you, all of you. I wish to commit every magnificent inch of the body that is about to become mine and mine alone to memory.’

  Her breath caught, her head jerking up to meet his gaze. Pure fire blazed in the topaz depths, robbing her of words, of the fear of rejection she’d dreaded.

  ‘I...’ She would never know what she planned to say because the words shrivelled and died in her throat when he reached behind him and tugged his tunic off in one decisive move. His massive chest was a hairless, contoured landscape of honed muscles and bronze-skinned perfection. Her mouth dried up and the need to touch him flared wildly through her as he hurriedly toed off his loafers, then removed his trousers.

  Zaid was by far the most superior male specimen she’d ever clapped eyes on. She reeled as her voracious gaze took in lean hips, powerful thighs and a body so magnificent she didn’t think she could stand to look at him for much longer without screaming that he take her. But still she looked her fill, especially at the proud manhood, fully engorged and straining against his stomach. The thought of all that power directed at her, inside her, sent a wave of dizziness through her. But it was accompanied by an undeniable hunger.

  As if he read her thoughts, he caught her hand, drew it to his body. ‘Give in to your desire, Esmeralda. Touch me,’ he ordered roughly.

  She gladly gave in. And gasped in wonder and delight as her fingers met feverishly hot smooth skin layered over rock-hard muscle. A strong wish to circle his magnificent body, just as he’d done to her, assailed her. But she didn’t think she could move from where she was rooted to the spot, such was the awesome power surging through her.

  So she contented herself with learning the grooves of his abs, of skimming her fingers over his breastplate, grazing her nails over his flat nipples. At his harsh hiss, her fingers froze.

  The next moment, he cupped her nape in a jerky movement, bringing her flush against his body before slamming his mouth on hers. The kiss was hard, and quick, and spoke of an edge riding him he was hanging onto with great difficulty.

  Just as abruptly he ended the kiss and swept her into his arms.

  ‘We need to move this to the bed, sweet one. Now. Before I reach the point of no return and take you here on the floor.’

  CHAPTER TEN

  THE TOUCH OF the cool sheets against her back sent a delicious shiver through Esme. That shiver turned into a warm shudder when Zaid’s hot, virile body settled over hers. He didn’t return to kissing her, but instead trailed his mouth over her cheeks, her forehead, the tip of her nose before journeying down her throat to the pulse that raced wildly there. Through it all, he murmured deep, lyrical words in his own language. She didn’t care that she had no understanding of them, as they pulsed with meaning in her blood. Emotion that felt different from the physical magic happening to her tightened in her chest. She didn’t have time to explore it because his lips were destroying her very sanity.

  They deposited kisses between the valley of her breasts for an interminable age, before cresting her left breast to tug one tingling nipple into his mouth.

  Just like last time, the sensation was beyond exquisite. Her fingers convulsed where they’d been trailing though his hair. ‘Oh!’

  Encouraged by her response, he repeated the caress, then graced her twin nipple with the same incredible attention. By the time he continued on his exploration, Esme was nearly incoherent with pleasure. So much so it took a moment to realise his next destination.

  Her breath froze as he wrapped one hand around her slim thigh and parted her legs. Throughout her feverish imaginings of what making love with Zaid would feel like, she’d never factored in oral sex. The aggressive determination on his face, however, told her he’d very much factored it into his own process and was intent on fulfilling that wish.

  Heat surged high and fiery beneath her skin as he bared her most intimate body part to his bold gaze. The hand that captured her thigh released her to caress a path of devastation up to her heated core. Sure fingers parted her, his gaze flickering up to meet hers for a charged second before dropping back down to her centre.

  ‘You’re beautiful, Esmeralda,’ he stated throatily. Simple words. But their effect on her was nothing short of earth-shattering.

  The last of her resolve melted away, leaving her with a bone-deep belief that whatever happened when the sun rose tomorrow, she was doing the right thing right now. As if h
e’d read her thoughts, his eyes met hers, the darker depths staying fixed on her face for a long spell before he lowered his head and tasted her in the most elemental of ways.

  Newly freed from her self-doubt, she succumbed to the pleasure racing through her bloodstream. The warm satin sheets slid gloriously underneath her as she gave in to the instinct to roll her hips against Zaid’s caress. He made a gravelly sound of approval in his throat. She moved again, meeting the expert flick of his tongue against the engorged nub that was the epicentre of her pleasure. Fireworks burst across her vision, and her breath emerged in harsh pants as an indescribable sensation began to take over. It gathered speed and power, catapulting her higher with each bold caress from Zaid. Her fingers clenched into the satin sheets as he spread her even wider, and deepened the intimate kiss.

  The giant knot of pleasure burst wide open without warning, drawing a shocked scream from her lungs as she was flung high into a stratosphere of pure, incandescent bliss. The pleasure rolled in an endless loop, her body convulsing shamelessly as she drowned in it. When it finally released her from its vicious grip, her eyes fluttered open. To the sight of the man responsible for her incredible release.

  His hands were clamped on her hip and in her hair, and the dark flush on his face spoke of his own savage need. The need to bestow on him a fraction of what he’d just given her urged her to raise a hand to his cheek, caress his taut skin, before raising her head to press her lips to his.

  A pure animal sound ripped from his throat as he quickly donned a condom, levered his body over hers and resumed the kiss. His thighs parted hers and she felt the undeniable power of his arousal between her legs. She looked down at where they were about to join. Her heart caught, the reality of his impressive girth forcing an apprehensive swallow.

  The fingers in her hair tightened a touch, directing her attention upward. ‘It’ll be all right, habiba. Don’t fret. The pain will be fleeting... I’ve been told. Then I guarantee you untold pleasure.’